


I Don't Dance

by QueenoftheHobbits



Series: Soft Thighs Series [43]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, overweight reader, plus size reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-14 01:13:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7993210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenoftheHobbits/pseuds/QueenoftheHobbits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You don’t dance, except when James Barnes is involved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Don't Dance

You didn’t like to dance, you hated to dance in fact. It wasn’t so much the act of dancing because how could you hate moving your body when you did it every day? But rather it was the people, the eyes, the judgements that were made that you hate it. You hated that people only saw you as the fat girl and thus questioned why you were dancing, that they had this skewed idea of what you were allowed to do...or at least you thought so, you’d had enough nasty comments in the past and it slowly led to an extreme insecurity around dancing, around moving like that in front of people because surely they would, just like people had done before, simply see the fat girl trying to dance and failing. Trying to be something she’s not.

Which was really rather awkward when you lived in a society that revelled in dancing, where dancing was a dating experience, a social activity and all around something that well...everyone did. There was, however, one man who had the innate ability to draw you away from your seat and get you to dance and not even care who was watching. James Buchanan Barnes was somewhat of a partner of yours although neither of you had made anything official, you merely knew that you had gone on more than a few dates with him and that he hadn’t seen any other girl in the time that you’d been seeing each other. Which seemed rather official to you...but neither of you had really said anything about that. 

He had an ability from the moment you had met him to make you feel relaxed, comfortable and safe, there was no doubt in your mind when you were around him that he’d never judge you for your weight or anything you did (unless it was something horrifically bad like murder but that didn’t seem likely) and you knew from personal experience that he never let anyone say anything nasty to you without recompense. He had a horrible hero complex that took over around you or anyone really. He almost took pride in standing up for you, which was new, definitely new. But most welcome nonetheless. You really wanted him to be your boyfriend. Officially. Without the tension that comes from not discussing it, but it was terrifying to discuss it as well. So you left it and hoped he’d be the one to raise it. 

Despite your woes around dancing, you always promised to go dancing with him at least once every two weeks, he respected you enough to not push you to do it too often or more often than you were comfortable and you doubted he’d complain if you simply said you weren’t doing it anymore. Bucky was that type of person, he respected and understood people even if he could be a cheeky ass sometimes. 

It’s how you found yourself waiting at the dancing hall, a glass in your hand, and your eyes on the door. Bucky always met you either on time or 5 minutes late but never more and never less. He had an oddly predictable timing about him which made waiting for him a lot less nerve wrecking than it would be if he was a bit more random in that area. You always knew he’d show up and if he didn’t you knew that something was wrong.

The moment he walked in you couldn’t resist rolling your eyes lightly at the cheeky saunter in his step and the full uniform he’d put on probably to boast about his status as a soldier. He’d been almost insufferable about it, but it made the prospect of him leaving and not coming back easier...because all you thought about was the humour he put into it, rather than the future possibilities that could hurt you deeply. 

“You been waiting long?” He wrapped an arm around your thick waist, calling for a beer from the bartender that kept everyone hydrated during the long nights dancing. His name was Jim or at least you thought it was Jim...you couldn’t quite remember. 

“No, and you never make me.” You reached up, brushing as kiss against his cheek and taking a sip from your own glass. The two of you sat there for a little while finishing your drinks and chatting, catching up on what you’d missed in the few days you hadn’t seen each other. Whenever you were around Bucky you struggled to pull your gaze away from him, he truly was a handsome man, but it was more than that...there was a happiness about Bucky, a life about him that drew you in like a moth to a flame. Although less dangerous and damaging. 

“C’mon!” You pretended to be reluctant to his grasping hand pulling you towards the dance floor where other couples were moving about together. Dragging your feet and letting your arm pull taut. But he knew, he knew that you would dance with him and for him and that you’d probably enjoy yourself because you always did when Bucky was involved. 

You let him pull you a little harshly into his arms, your body colliding with his. You slid your arms around his neck taking a much slower pace than some of the couples who were swinging about with enough energy that it terrified you because you definitely could not do _that_ you’d fall flat on your face. His own slid over your thick waist, landing a little low on your back, just high enough to be appropriate, just low enough to be verging on inappropriate. 

You two rarely spoke when you were like that, there was more to be said from expressions and the look in each other’s eyes than in words. The cheeky boyish glint in his eye as he twirled you away from him sharply, the giggle that light up your face as you came back to him and pressed your soft body closer to his. The way you pulled on the buttons of his uniform and played with the hair at the base of his neck. You loved dancing with Bucky because nothing and no one else mattered, because the two of you were able to communicate without actually talking and there was something intimate and wonderful about that. 

You rested your head against his shoulder as the song changed again finally one that matched your slow pace. “Hey, Doll...?” You hummed in response, arms tightening around him a little. 

“I know I never got around to asking..but do you want to be my girl?” You pulled back, more in shock than anything. You’d been waiting for him to ask for months...the possibility that he was finally getting around to it was surprising but not unwelcome. 

“You’re serious?” While Bucky hadn’t strayed in the time you had this odd little unofficial relationship you weren’t ever sure if he was the type to actually get involved in something serious...his arms tightened around your waist, before his hands dropped to your wide hips instead lightly kneading at the fabric there almost nervous. “Very...”

“Okay...yes, i’ll be you’re girl.” It sounded absolutely strange coming from your mouth but the bright grin that you received and the tight embrace told you that he wanted this as much as you did and that while those words may sound strange now, they were amazing nonetheless. 

Bucky’s girl sounded great, but Y/N’s guy sounded even better.


End file.
